


BTS - Pillow Talk (Suga x Jeong-sun)

by Insfiringyou



Series: Headcanon Masterlist [64]
Category: K-pop, bts, 방탄소년단 | Bangtan Boys | BTS
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Gen, Ongoing storyline
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-11
Updated: 2019-08-11
Packaged: 2020-08-19 12:23:05
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20209684
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Insfiringyou/pseuds/Insfiringyou
Summary: Set a few days after their coffee date was interrupted. Yoongi realises it is Jeong-sun’s birthday and visits her apartment to give her a card.This is part of our ongoing story line in our headcanon universe & mentions several key events from Yoongi and Jeong-sun’s past relationship together which you may wish to read first. Most importantly, the events of ‘Making a sex/intimate tape with gf’, ‘Boat Party’ and ‘Suga and Jeong-sun break up’.Find all of Suga's headcanon fics to date listed in order here: https://insfiringyou.tumblr.com/post/185247087886/bts-sugas-headcanon-universe-fics





	BTS - Pillow Talk (Suga x Jeong-sun)

Jeong-sun scooped up the paper party plates which cluttered the kitchen island, their surfaces sticky with the remnants of chocolate cake, iced cookies and sandwich fillings. They joined the cocktail sticks from miniature sausages in the bottom of a black garbage-liner. The kitchen, which opened onto her living room, was too small to accommodate more than two people at a time, but she had tried her best; the evidence of her efforts laid bare for her now to see. She mopped up a small puddle of spilled soda before taking a large gulp from a red party cup, finishing off the few mouthfuls of Cherryade Yu-jin had left behind, before turning to another cup half-filled with Prosecco.

She was interrupted by the low drones of the electronic doorbell which badly needed its battery replacing. The chiming sound, slower than usual, was both incredibly creepy and disturbing and she wondered who was calling so late in the evening, if her dad or Yu-jin might have left something behind. She descended the stairs to unlock the front door and, as always when answering at night, she left the safety chain on and peered out through the gap.

“What are you doing here?” Her voice was curious and a little surprised as she quickly closed the door and unlatched the metal clasp, opening it fully, her heart racing a little.

“I didn’t know if you were busy.” Yoongi explained, hovering on the doorstep a little awkwardly. He was dressed casually in a black zip-up jacket and a pair of dark jeans paired with a navy beanie, but Jeong-sun couldn’t stop her eyes from roaming over him. Knowing she wasn’t going anywhere that day, she had opted to wear an old pair of faded skinny jeans and a dark David Bowie T-shirt.

“I wanted to give you this.” He held out a cream coloured envelope which she took a little warily.

“What’s this?” She asked, turning it over in her hands. Her name was written on the front in Yoongi’s spindly, neat handwriting. 

“It’s your birthday.” He shrugged. His voice was gentle but it made her frown nonetheless as she wondered how he had remembered; she didn’t think she had mentioned it to him the last time she saw him.

“Thanks.” She said, a little guiltily, suddenly wondering whether she should have invited him around after all. The thought had very briefly occurred to her as she made the phone call to Yu-Jin, but she knew her dad and brother would also be there and didn’t want him to feel awkward. Furthermore, she hadn’t really planned the get together herself; her dad had told her two days before that he was travelling to Seoul for the weekend and she invited Yu-Jin at the last minute. 

“Do you want to come in?” She asked hopefully, standing aside to allow him into the hallway. They walked up the stairs in silence until they reached her apartment. “Sorry for the mess.” She apologised, closing the wooden door behind them.

“Did you have a party?” Yoongi asked, eyes roaming over the red plastic cups and balloons which had been sellotaped haphazardly to the walls. The number ‘30′ adorned several in bold, gaudy colours. 

“Not really...” She shrugged, moving to join him by the messy counter and putting down her jumble of keys and the envelope on the table. “Just my dad and brother. Yu-Jin came by for a bit.”

“She’s back in Seoul?” Yoongi turned to look at her with casual interest.

She nodded. “She’s got an interview tomorrow for a lecturer post.”

“Which university?”

“Seoul National.” Jeong-sun stepped past him to pick up the black bag she had discarded.

“Where’s your dad staying?” Yoongi asked, his eyes following her as she picked up a few empty red cups and stacked them before throwing them away.

“With my brother. He said the sofa was too small to sleep on.” She murmured. 

Yoongi automatically looked over the kitchen island towards the sofa which, as usual, was covered in a pile of clothes waiting be ironed. He smirked. “He has a point.” Turning back, “Do you want some help?”

She shook her head, picking up the cup of Prosecco and taking a sip. “It’s nearly done.”

He ignored her refusal and beat her to a couple of stray party streamers which had been set off earlier in the evening, dropping them into the black bag which had been placed over the edge of a chair before turning his attention to the handful of balloons. She watched him with interest as he collected them, standing on his tiptoes to reach the higher ones her brother had put up, and bringing them to the table by the ribbons which had been tied around the end of each one. He glanced at one with a smile, turning it over so the number showed. 

“How does it feel being thirty?” He teased, sliding the beanie from his hair and placing it on the table. Jeong-sun put down her Prosecco and reached for her keys, bursting the balloon with a quick, stabbing motion. Yoongi’s grin widened and she finished the alcohol in the plastic cup in one, long gulp, her mouth contorting at the taste.

His gums flashed in a smile which made her heart skip. “Does it taste good?” 

“It did the job.” She replied drily, turning around to pick up the bottle which still had a few mouthfuls left. She grabbed a fresh red cup from a stack by the cooker and poured Yoongi the remainder. He took a hesitant sip and grimaced a little at the flat taste. The bottle had clearly been opened some time before. Jeong-sun didn’t notice as she finished clearing the rubbish and filling the bin-liner. 

“There’s some cake in the fridge if you want a slice.” She offered. 

Yoongi smiled, putting the half-full cup down. He was finding her floundering attempts to accommodate him strangely charming; her talents as a hostess no better now than when they first met.

“I’m okay.” He murmured good-naturedly as she turned back to him.

“How did you know it was my birthday?” She asked, meeting his gaze. 

“I didn’t. I must have set a reminder on my phone.”

“Three years ago?”

He shrugged. “I kept forgetting to delete it.”

There was a pause between them as she let this sink in and found herself unable to keep her eyes on him, instead dropping them to the counter. They fixed on the cup of Prosecco which she took from the table and poured down the drain. “Do you want a hot drink?” She asked.

“Anything...” He murmured gratefully as she began to fill the electric kettle with water from the tap. He grabbed a wooden chair and sat himself at the make-shift table, watching as she grabbed a royal-purple container from the cupboard above her head and scooped three spoonfuls of brown powder into the two patterned mugs in front of her. 

“I’m sorry I had to leave the other day.” She said without turning, pouring the boiling water and mixing the powder with a teaspoon. 

“It’s fine.” He murmured, watching her. 

“Hae-won would have been up all night if she didn’t have her painkillers.” She rambled with a small sigh as she picked up the mugs. “I’m going to have to ween her off them before she gets addicted.” She placed one beside Yoongi and the other on the opposite side of the island, hovering a little awkwardly beside him. “You can smoke if you want.” She finished, nodding towards the visible rectangular outline in his jacket pocket.

He paused before nodding and slipping the pack from his pocket. “Thanks.” He murmured.

She turned away and grabbed a little ceramic teabag holder from beside the kettle, placing it on the table to use as an ashtray. He flipped open the cardboard lid and hesitated before offering her the pack, stretching out his arm as she took one with a quiet thanks. She held it a little clumsily between her fingers. While he knew she wasn’t a smoker, he sensed she was looking for something to do which would calm her down. She had been surprisingly jittery and restless since he had stepped foot through the door and, if he was honest, her feelings and nerves were perfectly mirrored in himself; he had always just been better at hiding it. 

He pulled his disposable Clipper from his pocket and lit the end for her, subconsciously waiting to see if she would cough and change her mind before turning to his own. They smoked for a few seconds in silence, the silver plumage filling the small room quickly. He found himself wondering whether she had smoke alarms fitted before remembering they had been disabled. His memory of her telling him this was hazy and he couldn’t quite remember the circumstances surrounding it but, either way, they weren’t going off now.

Jeong-sun watched the end of her cigarette blankly as the white paper turned to ash between her fingers as Yoongi eyed her silently, inhaling deeply and waiting for her to finally reveal what was troubling her.

“I didn’t think it would feel like this.” She eventually muttered, tapping the cigarette against the ceramic dish gently to flick the excess ash away.

“What?” 

Her gaze was fixed on the stick between her fore and middle finger, as though in a daze. “Turning thirty.”

“What did you think it would feel like?” He asked gently. 

“Like I’d accomplished something.” She took a quick drag, pressing the filter to her lips and exhaling hurriedly. “I just thought I’d have things figured out.”

He looked at her across the table. “It’s okay if you don’t.” He said soberly. 

She ignored his comment and pressed on blankly. “I was in the pharmacy the other day and just thought about walking out.” 

“What stopped you?”

She hesitated, frowning before answering. “I don’t know how to do anything else.”

Yoongi shook his head. “I’m sure that’s not true.”

She sighed heavily. “It’s just frustrating.” There was a pause before she finally looked him straight in the eye. “Do you ever feel that way sometimes?”

He nodded. “Sometimes.” He murmured quietly, finishing his cigarette. There were countless times over the past decade when he had felt as though he were stuck in a loop; doing just enough to keep himself satisfied with his career but unable to reach his potential. While most people were unable to grasp how someone so successful could also be so unhappy at times, Jeong-sun had been one of the few people he had allowed to see that side of his life. He continued. “Have you spoken to anyone about it?”

“Like a shrink?” She asked, wide eyes.

He smiled a little. “Like your dad.”

She nodded, taking a final drag of her cigarette before stubbing it out on the make-shift ashtray. “He says I can do anything I put my mind to.” She murmured, unconvinced as she blew out her last trail of smoke in messy, discordant bursts.

Yoongi was silent for a moment, believing her dad to be right but knowing she wouldn’t see it that way. “You’ve got people that care about you.” He said gently.

“I know.” She sighed, suddenly sounding more self-aware and like her old-self. “I’m sorry, I’m just being mopey.”

He shook his head. “I felt the same.”

She looked at him, internally calculating when his thirtieth had been and realising that he would have still been in service. “Did you have anyone to talk to?”

He half-shrugged before falling silent for a moment, his eyes fixed on his interlocked hands resting on the table in front of him. “I thought about calling you.”

“While you were away?” She asked gently, unable to hide the trace of shock in her voice. 

He nodded steadily. “I didn’t have your number.”

Remembering why, she smirked without much humour. “Idiot.” She joked. 

“I wouldn’t have known what to say anyway.” He admitted quietly. 

“Why?”

“I thought you’d moved on.”

She hesitated before asking. “Had you?” 

Raising his head, he collectedly met her gaze. “No.”

Her heart pounded in reply, voice trembling slightly. “Wasn’t there anyone else?”

He thought for a moment, wondering what she was asking. “Did I have sex?” He clarified.

“Yeah.” 

He nodded. “Twice.”

There was a pause. “How was it?” She sounded inquisitive; genuinely curious and he realised that while he had known about her dating the accountant, this was all new information to her.

“Fine.” He confessed, not knowing whether it had been best to be honest until she reacted, nodding once.

“Good.” Her expression was soft and genuine, without much more than the smallest trace of jealousy. He realised that she was relieved to hear this. That while he may have not moved on emotionally, he was at least not masochistic enough to remain celibate for all that time.

There was a pause before he returned the question. “What about you?” 

Her mouth curled at one corner as she gestured with her fore and middle finger, signalling two in a V shape.

“How was it?” Yoongi asked, mirroring her earlier question and making her laugh. 

“Not that great.” She confessed with a grin, shaking her head. He couldn’t help but smile back.

“I’m sorry.” He said.

“It’s fine.” She calmed down her chuckles and gestured to his mug. “How’s the hot chocolate?” She asked.

“Hot.” He quipped, feeling slight relief at the change in topic. He took a sip and set the mug back down while she echoed his movement, drinking some of hers and letting out a little approving murmur at the taste. She had recently taken to drinking cocoa before bedtime, figuring it would help her sleep a lot better than her usual cup of milky coffee. 

“I got it from the corner shop, it’s a British brand.” She explained casually, taking another few sips. 

“I thought it tasted sweeter.”

That reminded her. “How was London?”

“They drive on the wrong side of the road.” He said drolly, taking another drink as she smiled in reply.

“I’ve always wanted to go.” She said wistfully.

“Maybe you could book some time off.” He suggested. 

“Maybe.” She sounded doubtful as she finished her hot chocolate and placed the mug back down on the counter which served as a table. 

“Are you working tomorrow?” He asked curiously. 

“No, they gave me the weekend off.” She looked at him. “Are you tired?”

“No, are you?” He met her gaze, observing that, like the last time they had met, she was looking overworked. 

She shrugged. “A little bit.” Standing up, she walked around the edge of the counter and collected his finished mug along with her own, placing them carefully in the plastic bowl which sat in the sink. 

“Do you want me to go?” His eyes followed her as she ran a little hot water into the bowl to soak the cups. While he was enjoying her company and wanted nothing more than to spend more time with her, he didn’t like the thought of keeping her awake when she looked so tired. He had deliberately waited until the evening to visit her after realising it was her birthday, the first reason being that he needed to go out and get her a card and the second that he didn’t want to interrupt her if she had any special plans. Now, however, he felt guilty for keeping her up so late after what had clearly been a busy day. 

“I like having you here.” She admitted, her reply taking him by surprise and making his stomach flutter a little. He cleared his throat which steadied his heart-rate a little and allowed him to breathe a little better. The kitchen and living room still had a hazy quality to it caused by the smoke from the cigarettes they had smoked earlier. 

“How’s your boiler?” He asked with interest.

“It’s rattling a bit.” She admitted with a remorseful blush. 

“Do you want me to take a look?” 

“You don’t have to...I’m just happy it’s working.” She said, already feeling he had done enough for her where her run-down boiler was concerned. 

“I don’t mind.” He stood up before she had time to protest and started walking around the counter, heading for the door at the end of the living room which led to her bathroom and bedroom. “The screw’s probably just loose.” He explained as he waited for her to catch him up and grant him access to the room at the end of the narrow corridor. She had attempted to tidy it in anticipation of her dad and brother’s visit earlier in the day and Yoongi thought it was possibly the most un-chaotic he had ever seen it. Her bed was neatly made with dark blue bed-sheets and her bedside table, usually covered with a jumble of assorted tokens and trinkets, was bare save for her cell phone which laid in the centre.

He made a beeline for the white boiler unit which sat in the corner of the room. Despite his comment one night during their time together that it was not really safe to have it in the bedroom and that she should complain to her landlord, she had dismissed his concern, saying there wasn’t enough room to have it elsewhere in the apartment and that he was fussing over nothing; that she had been fine so far. He glanced at the carbon monoxide alarm he had placed on the carpet below the pipes as he unclasped the front of the unit, and considered that he should have bought her one years ago to keep her safe.

Jeong-sun watched with a smirk, sitting on the edge of her double bed as he reached into the pocket of his jeans and pulled out his keys, fiddling with the various useful tools he kept on his key-ring before he found the miniature screwdriver. Pushing it into the side of the unit carefully, he tightened the screws around the air pressure switch before replacing the covering and turning to face Jeong-sun.

She looked up at him from her place on the sheets, her body still as he edged closer and sat beside her when he realised she wasn’t going to get up. A moment of silence passed between them before she leaned forward and slipped off her socks, discarding them one at a time on the carpeted floor.

“I’m sorry, my feet stink.” She joked, breaking some of the nervousness before shuffling backwards onto the bed and slipping quietly under the quilt. His eyes never left her as she nestled against the pillow, leaning on one side in her usual sleeping position.

“Can you stay?” She asked gently. Yoongi couldn’t quite gather the tone of her voice and wondered whether she was asking or requesting but his heart sped up nonetheless at the sound of her voice and the implication of her words. 

“If you want me to.” He looked back at her, over his shoulder, from his seated position on the covers. In the moment of silence which followed, Yoongi wondered whether she was going to change her mind before she spoke.

“Turn out the light.”

He complied with her request and flicked the switch on the wall by the door before slipping his low-topped Converse from his bare feet and leaving them by the edge of the bed. From her position against her pillow, Jeong-sun heard the sound of a zipper being unfastened as Yoongi removed his outer jacket and placed it on the spare chair in the corner of the room before moving onto the bed. She felt his weight beside her and could just about make out his shape from over her shoulder as he laid beside her on the duvet. The curtains she had recently bought did a good job of blocking out the obnoxious glare of the street lamps outside her window and cast the bedroom into darkness.

Her pulse coursed through her whole body; trembling in the tips of her fingers and soles of her feet as they laid there in silence. Over the past few years, many of the restaurants and takeaway houses near her apartment had closed and been boarded up, meaning the area was now much quieter than it had been in the days when she had been with Yoongi. Along with the sound of her heart racing in her ears, only the low churning of water in the pipes from her boiler and the steady, comforting sound of his breathing behind her cut the still silence and she wondered whether he could hear her; whether he was just as nervous. She knew that when she finally spoke, her voice would tremble but, in that moment, she needed him to know.

“I never told you I’m sorry.” She said, her voice louder than anticipated in the otherwise quiet space and making her recoil a little.

“You don’t need to.” He murmured quietly, his voice appropriately personal. 

She shuffled, lowering her voice. “It wasn’t easy.”

“I know it wasn’t. I don’t blame you.” He admitted, pausing. “I didn’t think I would see you again.”

The reality of how likely this outcome had been suddenly hit her, making her ache. “You neither.” She agreed. “I saw the news reports when you first went in, but I didn’t feel like I could just call you.”

He thought about this for a moment, considering his own brief urge to tell her about his enlistment when he saw her in the supermarket two years before. “It would have just made things harder.” He realised with a heavy heart. “If I had felt like I was leaving someone behind...”

Despite wishing she could take back the pain and anguish she had caused him three years ago, she knew he was right.

“I’m glad you came over.“ She said honestly. “I didn’t expect you to.”

She felt Yoongi move in closer, his breath close against her neck. “I wanted to. After the park...” He purred, remembering the way she had momentarily taken his hand in hers, and the way it made him feel. Reaching out now over her covered waist, he brushed his palm over the back of her hand, holding it in place against her stomach. In response, she curled her fingers against him, slipping them through his.

“It felt nice...” She whispered breathily, knowing he would be able to feel her pulse in her fingertips. “And this feels nice.” She confessed, gently squeezing his hand.

“Mm.” He murmured in agreement, his body naturally moving closer against her back, fitting against her curves and spooning her gently as she clutched his hand to hers, tightly nestled against her covered stomach.

“I still have your jacket.” She said after a moment. 

“The leather one?”

She smiled to herself. “I don’t remember you giving it to me.”

“Me neither.” He admitted. 

“Do you want it back?” She asked. 

His breath brushed the back of her neck as he cuddled her, making the tiny, fine hairs there stand on end. “It always suited you better...”

She felt him shift behind her, finally un-tucking the bed-cover from his side of the mattress and sliding beneath it to join her. She internally sighed at the loss of contact as he let go of her hand to adjust the covers, before he returned to her. He snuggled close against her back and caressed the backs of her knuckles with his thumb, wrapping his arm against her stomach.

“Are you cold?” She asked, feeling the chill of his body against her back through both their t-shirts.

“Do I feel cold?” He asked with a murmur. 

She smirked. “A bit.” Brushing her hand affectionately along his forearm, she appreciated the soft, fine hairs which grew there, along with the outlines of his tendons and veins, with her fingertips. She had forgotten how easily his body seemed to lose heat and how he would often shiver through the night if she didn’t wrap him up in her arms and share her warmth with him. “I’ve got a hot water bottle if you want it.” She offered. 

“I’m alright.” He mumbled against her ear, his lips brushing her lobe delicately as he spoke. “You’re warm...” 

She couldn’t remember the last time she had been held like this; with someone’s body wrapped so lovingly around hers in a way which felt both agonisingly familiar and excitingly novel.

“Did you think about me while you were away?” She whispered as she cradled his arm against her torso, stroking the soft skin there gently. 

“Mainly memories.” He murmured in a low voice. 

“Like what?”

He paused for a moment, thinking. “You making me birthday cake.”

She grinned in the darkness though he couldn’t see her. She hadn’t thought of that day, four years ago, in years and his answer took her by surprise. “The one I burned?” She asked, misremembering the finer details of which version of the cake she finally presented to Yoongi. 

“It tasted great anyway.” He shrugged, his voice dreamy in thought. “I remember you had flour in your hair. I saw the pictures on your phone later.”

Jeong-sun smirked. The detail of the many photographs, documenting the evolution of the cake she did remember, along with another titbit...

“Did you watch the video?” She asked. 

Yoongi let out a breathy laugh, remembering. “The first five minutes.”

“Why just five?” She quipped, eyebrow raised to herself. “It got good after that.”

He brushed his thumb over her back of her hand warmly. “I didn’t need to watch it, I remembered just fine.”

His confession made her feel breathless and tingly all over. It felt strange to hear him talk about something so private they had shared so long ago. “What do you remember?” She asked, her voice nothing more than a whisper ringing in the dark.

He laughed softly against her ear, his breath warm and lulling and giving her goosebumps along her arms. “Do you want me to draw a diagram?” He quipped, making her grin.

“It’s dark...” She laughed. 

He waited for her to calm down, for her body to stop quivering with exhalations before he spoke. “You looked really beautiful.” He recalled candidly. 

Jeong-sun’s breath hitched. The eerie silence of the night and the cosiness of his body against hers under the covers was unlike anything she had ever experienced before. “I realised I loved you just before...when you were on tour.” She confessed. While, half an hour before, she would have felt awkward and bashful giving Yoongi this information, it suddenly didn’t seem strange to speak so earnestly. The memory of that day came flooding back and she remembered sitting on the floor in her bedroom with tears in her eyes as she realised; unable to tell him and not knowing what to do with this brand new emotion.

“For me it was just before that.” Yoongi revealed. Like Jeong-sun, the memory suddenly seemed clear. “The thought of two months without you was...” He drifted off, unable to find the right words to finish. Jeong-sun nodded against him, letting him know she understood. 

“I wish we’d have had more time to spend together.” She finished for him, whispering sorrowfully as her fingers once more found his and slipped through them. 

He nuzzled against her, shifting his body slightly to rest his chin against her shoulder. “We have it now.” He purred against her lobe. 

She felt a wave of alleviation wash through her as she realised he was right and closed her eyes; the low rumble of his voice sent a pleasant tremor through her body. “I always felt like I was being pulled away from you.” She said, finally able to vocalise her frustration after so long. 

“It bothered me to.” He agreed, instinctively pulling her closer by the waist. “I couldn’t get enough of you.”

The slight shift in his body alerted her to the fact he was a little hard beneath his jeans; the soft swell of him comforting against her backside. “Like on the yacht...” She breathed.

“In the closet.” He finished, agreeing.

She licked her dry lips. Her throat suddenly felt hoarse. “I wouldn’t have cared even if we did get caught.” She realised as she said it that she meant it; that it was a sentiment untainted by nostalgia and, while she hadn’t realised it at the time, being caught would have been a relief and would have solved some, if not all of their problems. She let go of his hand and rolled around slowly to face him; his outline clear now that her eyes were well adjusted to the darkness. Reaching out, she touched his waist gently, her breath warm against his face as she spoke in barely more than a whisper. “I just needed to have you inside of me.”

His breath was strained but his movements controlled as he ran one palm up her side slowly, thumb briefly brushing the edge of her breast before curling into the back of her hair, holding her close to him. “You felt so good. I wouldn’t have cared either...” He pressed his forehead against hers, the tops of their noses touching. “When you came around me...”

She moved her palm slowly away from his waist, feeling the ragged, breathy exhalation of his breath against her cheek as she felt between their bodies, across his thigh and, briefer than brief, over his strained outline before finding his spare hand. She held it in hers as they cuddled in silence, the sound of their breathing lulling and comforting in the otherwise quiet and dark space. Eventually, just as he was about to drift, he felt her fingers squeeze his reassuringly.

“I missed you.” She whispered and he sighed heavily, pulling away to rest his chin gently on top of her head and nestling her face into his neck. She breathed in the sweet, comforting scent of his skin, her cheek against his collarbone as they fell asleep.

***

They had naturally moved apart at some point in the night and it was Yoongi who grabbed her phone first when the opening synthesised beat of Blue Monday began to play, waking them both up with a jolt. He reached over to the bedside table to palm to device and handed it to her.

“Thanks.” She murmured sleepily, swiping the screen and turning off the alarm. She discarded the cell on the sheets as her body slowly woke up.

“You moved your table.” Yoongi murmured casually. 

“The streetlights were waking me up so I switched sides.” She explained with a yawn. “How did you sleep?”

“Good.” He looked over at her briefly, feeling his breath hitch despite her dishevelled morning appearance, before rolling on his back to face the ceiling. They lay in silence for a few minutes as they remembered the events of the previous night; how perfect everything had seemed as they whispered sweet-nothings, clinging to each other in the dark. The room in the stark morning light felt worlds away from that dreamy atmosphere and they both felt a little awkward and bashful. 

Eventually, Jeong-sun sat up and perched on the edge of the bed, bare toes skimming the carpet as he watched her in silence.

“I should put on some coffee...” She murmured, standing up and stretching before plodding out of the room. She paced around the island in the kitchen, pushing her tangled hair away from her forehead with both hands as she breathed deeply, trying to calm the fluttery sensation in her chest and stomach. Reaching out, she filled the coffee machine with fresh grounds and, feeling restless while waiting for it to brew, moved over to the fridge and pulled out the crumby remainder of her chocolate cake. There was a sealed packet of napkins by the microwave and she slipped one out of the covering and wrapped up a large slice for Yoongi.

In the bedroom, Yoongi pulled aside the quilt and sat on the mattress, brushing his dark hair from his eyes and trying to smooth it a little with the ball of his palms. He hadn’t bothered to cut it in the past few weeks and it had grown back to the length it had been before he enlisted. He could hear the splashing sound of the running tap from the kitchen and couldn’t help but allow his mind to wander over the events from the small hours of the morning, his stomach filling with butterflies as he remembered the way she held his waist as she turned to face him, her hand finding his hand in the dark. He recalled the familiar way her body smelt; of oats and coffee and roses and sighed as he got to his feet. He slipped on the jacket he had removed the night before and put on his Converse before heading down the hallway to the kitchen.

“Do you want toast?” Jeong-sun asked as she finished adding sugar to her own coffee. He saw she had already slipped two rounds of bread into the polka-dot toaster which sat on the side and nodded. She smiled, turning away from him at the sound of the machine popping and placing the pieces of brown bread onto two small plates.

“You like marmalade don’t you?” She murmured gingerly. “My dad saw it in my cupboard once and keeps bringing me the vile stuff.” Turning around, she held up the orange-coloured jar and smirked. He nodded and watched as she spread it thickly onto two slices. He had never liked it that much but didn’t have the heart to tell her. Instead, he ate in silence, without fuss, washing down the taste by taking a large gulp of coffee from the mug she placed in front of him. She ate her toast plain, nibbling at it without much vigour.

“I hope you didn’t have to be anywhere last night.” She said. “I just...I didn’t want to be alone.” 

Yoongi met her gaze and shook his head. “You shouldn’t have to be alone on your birthday.” He said quietly, reassuringly. She felt sad as she realised that he was thinking of his own thirtieth and how he had been away from those he loved. “I don’t have anywhere to be until eleven.” He confirmed. 

“Photoshoot?” 

"A surveyors coming to assess the roof.”

“Oh.” She muttered. His reply took her by surprise as she remembered the level of commitments he had had during their time together; how his schedule never seemed to end. She checked the little, rectangular pearl face of her watch. “That’s in forty-five minutes.”

He shrugged, finishing his last bite of toast. “I walk fast.”

“Here...” She reached for the folded napkin on the counter. “Take some cake home with you.”

He took it from her and unfolded one corner, peering at the brown lump.

“Thanks.” He grinned a shyly, it didn’t look that appetising and had started to lose its shape in the napkin, but he found the gesture thoughtful. He remembered how skittish she had been the previous evening while trying to make him feel welcome and how that awkwardness hadn’t quite dissipated. Refolding the package, he slipped it into his jacket pocket along with his cell and keys and, taking a final gulp of coffee, moved towards the door.

“Do you know how to work the lock downstairs? You just push it.” She fretted, hovering behind him. 

“I remember.” He murmured as she unhooked the safety latch and opened the door. He stepped onto the other side and paused. “I’ll text you...”

“Okay.” She looked at him, her eyes roaming over his features as they stood a little fumblingly on either side of the doorway, unsure on what else to say. He fidgeted with the edge of his jacket, adjusting the collar. 

“Happy birthday.” He added, his voice soft.

Her eyes were wide, jaw a little tense as she looked at him. If he looked close enough, he would have seen her jugular vein twitching as her heart worked overtime. He turned to leave.

“Don’t I get a birthday kiss?” She blurted, feeling her entire body cringe with embarrassment as he turned back to face her. She hadn’t been aware she was going to speak until the words left her mouth and her face features soured at the realisation. A small, gummy smile tugged at Yoongi’s lips as he looked at her, realising she was chastising herself for her outburst.

He glanced at his shoes timidly before stepping closer, bridging the gap between them. She let out a small murmur of approval as his lips met hers softly, his hand moving to lightly touch the back of her head as they kissed. They both felt weak as they moved slowly against one another, their lips caressing each other as they found a comfortable, leisurely rhythm. The kiss, while intense, was brief and all too soon he moved away, having to leave. She felt her knees tremble beneath her. 

“Okay?” He asked softly, pulling his hand from her dark hair as he stepped back. 

“Okay.” She confirmed with a nervous laugh, nodding her head as she looked up at him with large, expressive eyes. 

He smiled in reply, adjusting the zip on his jacket as he waved delicately. “Bye.” He murmured, reluctantly moving away to make his way down the stairs.

“Bye..” She replied weakly, watching from behind as he reached the top step at the end of the narrow hall.

Slowly, she closed the door behind her and refastened the safety latch, listening to the sound of the front door downstairs opening and closing before retreating into the kitchen. She hovered by the island, unsure what to do with herself and unable to process what had just happened. She clutched the hair on her scalp in her palms, tugging the hair away from her skull a little roughly as she tried to calm her breathing. Unable to keep still, she walked over to the counter and flicked the electric kettle on out of habit, pressing her fingers into the cold mock-marble of the tops to ground herself as she waited for it to boil.

She found a single chamomile teabag at the bottom of her enamel caddy and placed it into a clean mug, pouring the hot water over it before sitting at the table, clutching the vessel between her palms as the sweet memories of last night came flooding back, merging with the soft, tingly feel of his lips against hers as they kissed in the hallway. Although it had happened only ten minutes before, the memory was already starting to feel unreal, as though it had happened to someone else and not her. There had been a time, not so long before, when she had been confident she would never feel his touch again.

Looking down at the table, she noticed the cream coloured envelope she had discarded and reaching out, she took it between her fingers and read her name in his delicate, gentle script. Her drink lay forgotten as she trailed into the bedroom and flopped down heavily onto the bed, feeling exhausted as well as elated. She teased open the corners, sliding the card from its confines and glancing at the cover for a moment. It was the type of card you could pick up at any convenience store or gas station, the words HAPPY BIRTHDAY were written on a pink balloon held by a teddy bear, but the feel of it in her hand and the thought of him going out to buy it for her made her stomach flutter. Carefully, she opened it to read the message inside. HAPPY BIRTHDAY was once again typed in the centre and, below that, he had simply written Yoongi. She starred at the page for some time, fingers gently tracing the thin, black lines of his name, as though they were fragile and might break.

She remembered, with heated cheeks, how he had recalled the previous night the detail about his birthday cake she made him four years before, and how he had described the way she looked as they made love on the sofa. Hearing him call her beautiful, after so long, had made entire body ache fiercely; she couldn’t recall when she had last felt this way, if ever. After Yoongi, there had been two others; the accountant she had dated for several months and one man she had met in a club on one of her last outings with Angel. The experience had been a calamity and she had sneaked out of his apartment when he disappeared to use the bathroom, halfway through sex. She realised as she leaned over to prop the card on her bedside table, that she had never made love with anyone but Yoongi and, listening to him detail how she made him feel; remembering the details so vividly after so many years, had brought her own memories back in full flood.

She reached for her forgotten cell phone and found herself pulling up his name in her contacts, wondering whether it was too soon to call him and whether he would be home yet. She read through their last messages, remembering how she had texted him after finishing their date prematurely.

“It’s okay, the store had the right pills.” Her text read, followed by his reply: “That’s good. I hope she’s okay.”

She opened a new chat window and began typing: “thank you for”, she quickly deleted it and started again “I liked the card, thank you.” Feeling foolish, she tapped the back key before she had time to send and sighed. Her heart was still racing in her rib-cage, she could hear its thud echoing throughout the otherwise silent room and she regretted drinking her morning cup of coffee. At this rate, her blood pressure wouldn’t slow before midday.

Remaining on his name, she clicked on the camera icon and starred at her reflection on the screen; her dark hair fanning out around her face against the duvet and her cheeks and chest flushed pink, as though she had recently reached orgasm. Her fingertips felt tingly and her stomach refused to stop churning with fluttery butterflies as she tugged on the hem of her t-shirt, pulling it over the soft curves of her stomach and chest before allowing it to pool beneath her throat. She used her spare hand to slip her breasts over the top of her plain black bra and ran her thumb briefly over the nipples, sighing at the contact as the pink buds hardened to her touch. Adjusting the phone to the side to capture this view and pushing her breasts together with her arms, she clicked on the camera icon. Her face wasn’t visible in the shot, but she knew he would recognise her regardless. She wondered whether she should take it from a more flattering angle, before realising if she didn’t send it now, she would back out altogether. She clicked the send button and watched as the photograph moved into the chat window, below their last message.

She starred blankly at the screen, the giddiness in her chest being replaced by nerves as she realised what she had done with slight disbelief. She waited to see if Yoongi would reply, her eyelids growing heavier by the second as her body sank into the bed covers, but soon fell asleep waiting for a response.

***


End file.
